Elaborated Irony
by Prince Exor
Summary: The fate of Yoshimitsu. Contains minor Tekken crossover
1. Chapter 1

Irony: The Detail

Irony: The Detail

Part 1: Gaijin

The Japanese coast was stormy and treacherous, the kind of storm that sailors told stories about the world over. Waves loomed over the horizon like monsters, their gaping mouths noisily begging to be fed as always. Only fools would sail these waters on this night, after all, the ocean makes time and exception for no one. But as fate would have it, there were unknowing fools about on that particular night, making an ill fated trip that would have otherwise gone undisturbed.  
A foreign cargo ship was passing by the coast on this night. It was an English trading vessel making its rounds across the world, a rather nomadic existence. The captain of this ship was an honorable man who started his own trading business, frequently traveling with his family. His wife, daughter, and son were raised on ships like this one, so they all naturally felt at home while traveling. But this ill chosen voyage would split this family apart, and set in motion a series of events that would help shape the world.

The captain had not seen this storm coming, but was determined to keep his cool in this tense situation. Sailors scrambled about the deck to secure it, while the captain's family remained in the quarters, to keep safe and dry. The captain was determined to bravely face the terrible forces, and keep his friends and family safe. But all the bravery in the world could not stop the waves from consuming everything in their path. The ship was torn to bits like a pack of hungry wolves feasting on a new kill. Brave men and women drowned in the ravenous sea, never to see their homes again. Yet even the ocean can make mistakes, for two survived this terrible event. The survivors were the captain's ten year old daughter and five year old son.

Luck was not completely on their side though. They had managed to latch fearfully onto pieces of the destroyed ship like barnacles. The young boy was so scared he couldn't even think. He didn't hear his sister calling for him to try and regroup and didn't see her frantic waving. He could only taste the salty water, leaving a bitter, fearful taste in his mouth. He just wanted his mother, so she could make it all better like only a mother could. But he didn't see her, nor did he see his father. Soon, the waves had carried the small child far away from his sister.

What felt like days were closer to an hour of the child struggling with the ocean. He had been gripping the plank and kicking his legs. That's all he remembers to do when trying to recall how to swim. His fear had turned into panic, because he didn't see any of his friends or relatives now. He was alone in a wasteland of inhospitable water. The dark water was splashing all his face, clouding any ounce of sense he might have had, all he could do was kick. But just as it felt like all hope was lost, he felt his foot hit a bottom. Soon he was swept face first onto a strange new world.

The boy whipped wet sand from his face and eyes, sneezing a few times to puke up some sea water. He shivered coldly, weeping in the rain. He watched the horizon for hours, waiting for signs of life to join him in his solitude. But hours passed…and none came. He was sopping wet, felt sick to his stomach, and to make matters worse, his hands hurt greatly. The piece of wood he was on had little indents where his strong little fingers gripped.

The rain passed eventually, leaving the boy wet on the beach. He was incredibly frightened at these new surroundings, and cold from his damp clothes. Eventually he shed them, wandering the alien shores nude and alone, hoping to find someone. When the sun finally came up, it had relieved a few of his fears. But the sun would not help him find his lost family. In the morning hours, the sounds of his loud, hungry wailing alerted locals to his presence.  
Two Japanese fishermen had heard his crying, and at first thought it was a wounded animal. But when the child cried out his parents and sister's name, they knew it was human. There on the beach was where they found the strangest sight they had ever encountered: a nude young pale skinned European child, alone and terrified. The first fisherman called out to the child. It scared him, because he had never heard Japanese before, nor had he ever seen a Japanese man.

No one wanted to take responsibility for the boy. He was a foreigner, not something that was popular in their country. He couldn't speak any Japanese, and he seemed to cry loudly in fear or sorrow at a moments notice. Since they could not understand each other, the boys name was never learned, and he was given the somewhat affectionate title of "Noname".

Noname traveled on foot throughout Japan for a few years. It was in these years he learned how to pick pockets and steal for his food. It was a harsh existence and he learned many thief lessons the hard way, but he did what he had too. He frequently ended up in various local gangs, often playing the part of 'distraction' or 'decoy'. He was an easy target because of his obvious European heritage. He had untidy brownish hair and striking facial features, but was incredibly skinny. In these years he had learned to speak in the Japanese language, and all his petty thievery had taught him how to improvise and think on his feet.

Noname avoided samurai or high ranking officials. He could be sliced down for some small crime, and he had seen that happen before. He wanted to stay alive so he could find his parents and sister. He didn't want to come to terms with the fact that they were all possibly dead. He traveled too many shores to find traces of them, yielding always the same result. He never lost faith though, if one could call it faith.

He found friends in the poor and downtrodden. They were humble, and full of experience that they did not mind to share with the homeless gaijin. Noname was sure to split his meager earnings with his friends whenever he was included in bandits work. As he grew older, he was taught to fight like a ruffian, by other bandits. Even though he stood out like a sore thumb, his persistence had earned the respect of daring criminals.

Finally he turned eleven years old. He now was 'living' at a large city, making his living as a young thief. Noname was part of a group of young miscreants, stealing from nobles and from geisha, but for the most part being small time. He was treated with little respect, but he still did his part. As much as the people had scorned him, he had grown to love their culture. Every morning was the same for him. He would wake up from his little hideaway in the alleys, and walk across town to the thieves' ramshackle hideout. On his way, he would always say hello to an old beggar woman he had befriended, Emiko. She had no money, and no family to support her. Noname knew how that felt, and would always be courteous to her.

He had spent a while with this group of thieves at this point. They treated him like their own after he had earned their trust. The group was planning a large robbery, not small this time around. They were to steal from a samurai lord, staying in town. They all were stricken with anticipation, as this would surely increase their reputation. Noname was given the least important job to do of coarse, but he did not mind. He was not looking for glory, like the other thieves were. He would once again act as the look out, and if necessary, the decoy.

Even the best laid plans can fail, however. The robbery itself was a large failure. The thieves could not ambush this Samurai, and he promptly punished several of them with the steel of his blade. Noname, who feared nothing, saw his attack, and took advantage. He seized gold from his camp while the samurai was chasing the thieves away, and ran with it. It was not long before the samurai was upon Noname. But Noname could think on his feet better than the samurai. He climbed roofs, scrambled across the tops, squeezed himself through gates, and finally lost the clumsy Samurai. He was proud of himself. He had gotten away with all of his gold.

Instead of keeping it for himself, or giving it to the thieves, he placed the gold in Emiko's basket. Noname was young…he could go on longer than she could without food. Emiko was seemingly asleep while he gave up his catch. But in reality she was watching him. She was impressed by the kindness and quick wit of this young skinny child. He had the potential for greatness in him, she saw that right away.  
Emiko was not as old as she once said she was. Instead of being an elderly woman of 60, she was actually a woman of 40 and was in very good shape. A cloak, some makeup, and a convincing voice to go with it made everyone buy her charade. She was a member of the most elusive ninja clan in Japan, the Manji. The manji were not like conventional ninja's at all. They were so good at what they did, they needed no dark clothing, or camouflage. They could disguise anything about themselves, and become completely different people altogether. They were masters of illusion and theatrics, and could rival the samurai as sword fighters.

Emiko confronted the young Noname, and had an offer for him. Instead of burgling for small earnings, he could be part of a larger organization, have a home, a family, and get paid better sums of money. He could learn discipline, how to be a warrior, and maybe even do some good while he was out there. Noname liked the sound of a family, and he quickly accepted her offer. Emiko soon had him placed under her supervision, with her family. The manji clan was reluctant to let in an outsider, let alone a foreigner. But with Emiko's fierce debating and persistence, Noname had a home and a purpose now. It was Emiko and her daughter Kaori who gave Noname his new name. From that point on he was titled "Yoshimitsu".

(Stay tuned for Pt. 2)


	2. Chapter 2

Irony: The Detail

Irony: The Detail

Part 2: Shuzoku

Yoshimitsu had finally a new family, a new home, and a new purpose in life. He had since forgotten about looking for his family, coming to terms with their death. In the meantime, he spent his days learning along side his surrogate sister Kaori, taught by his surrogate mother Emiko. He learned how to read, write, and was taught about philosophy and etiquette. On top of that, he was taught how to fight efficiently with a sword and with his body, theatrics, acrobatics and concealment.

Yoshimitsu proved to be an excellent swordsman. He had a very unorthodox way of fighting, combining it with his improvisational skills (what he learned as a boy). All of that combined with Emiko's refined swordsmanship and Yoshimitsu's great sense of balance made him a force to be reckoned with. But even through his strengths, he was constantly belittled. It was because he was an outsider, and he was considered to be a weak link in the chain by his elders and peers. Only Emiko and Kaori truly accepted him.

As he grew, Yoshimitsu became physically stronger, but still maintained his skinny appearance. He could hide this under his costumes however, and it became a blessing in disguise giving him less to weigh him down in terms of speed and agility. His brown hair grew wildly, usually sticking in various directions. Usually when he let it grow longer he was forced to pull it all back and put it in a ponytail, something that was a painful ordeal for him. Yoshimitsu became accustomed to wearing masks for a long time after a few years of training, due to the ridicule his masters and peers would give him. This harsh ribbing made him want to hide his face and pale skin.

As Yoshimitsu and Kaori grew up, they became drawn to each other immensely. They had trained under Emiko together, and would often meet at the end of the day to talk, near the edge of the village. Kaori was an impressive manji-ninja in her own right. She had already been on more missions than Yoshimitsu at the time, and was a better actor then he, often masquerading as a Geisha and occasionally a male shogun. Yoshimitsu was often impressed by her mastery of illusion, and it drew him toward her more.

The few missions that he had been sent on proved to be immensely successful. In his first official mission, he had been set up as another decoy so a more renowned clan member could rob a lord's house. Yoshimitsu flamboyant outfit and speech had attracted all of the guards to his presence, leaving the other clan member no troubles to steal all he could. Yoshimitsu had easily defended himself and even managed to escape without harming any of the assailants. After that success, he had gained the respect of the elder and was from then on sent on more solo missions.

He had gained the elders respect, but not his supervisor unfortunately. His supervisor was the one who received contracts and distributed them to the clan for profit, and he had no respect for the outsider. Thus, Yoshimitsu was doomed to suffer through very low key and slightly inglorious missions, receiving little recognition or credit. This had depressed the young gaijin, feeling that his talents were inadequately used. The constant neglect the majority of the clan showed him (and the amount of highly successful jobs that Kaori had received over him) made him feel that he WAS in fact the weakest link in the chain.

Kaori only encouraged him though, making their bond stronger. By the time he was 16 he had become quite smitten with her. She was the first girl (aside from his sister) that he had become close too, his first real friend, the first girl he would kiss, and the first girl he ultimately came to love. After he came to this conclusion, he began to think that being the strongest manji wasn't all that important then. He was happy to feel included and loved, even if it was only minimal. He thought to himself 'maybe the rest of them will learn to accept me; I just have to wait for that time.'

Yoshimitsu was now 16, and was beginning to become a man. He was still skinny, but had acquired a bit more muscle since his younger days. His fighting skills had increased over time, but were still widely underappreciated. He proved to be a smooth negotiator in his various low key missions, and could either be the center of attention or hidden with the walls. He greatly enjoyed doing spy activity within the villages. Something about idle gossip entertained him. During this time he had listened in to a good deal of rumors that had traveled across Japan.

One rumor in particular had intrigued him greatly. He heard people speaking of an outcaste bodyguard that worked in another region. From what he heard, the man's fighting skills were tremendous, but he was disowned by society for taking on a controversial student. His student was a young woman, a European shipwreck refugee who had been living off of scraps and kindness for years, and now was going by the name "Setsuka". People disrespected this for a few reasons. One of them was that it was commonly assumed the warrior was not 'training' her, but keeping her around for sexual service. The other, unspoken reason was that she was a European, trying to masquerade as a Japanese citizen, something they found offensive. When Yoshimitsu had heard of this, he could only assume that this was his sister they were speaking of, his only living relative.

He was preparing to go and seek her out. He didn't know why he would, but he wanted to see her in any case, and find out how she survived the shipwreck. The terrible night he had tried to erase from his mind was suddenly back in his dreams, more vivid than before. He would stir very suddenly, waking Kaori beside him, tasting the salt of the water and feeling the bitter sting of the cold water on his skin. It was enough to keep him unhinged through his everyday life.

Yoshimitsu was preparing to journey to Setsuka's whereabouts to reveal himself one day, but he was halted by his supervisor. He was asked to meet with him and the Chief of the clan, to discuss something important. The chief had been invited to stay at the mansion of Lord Oda Nobunaga. Lord Oda Nobunaga was a powerful lord indeed, and it would be rude to decline his invite. The Chief and supervisor knew that Oda was going to ask for the Manji's sworn allegiance, something that they were not keen on. After all, the Manji cannot swear allegiance to any one force. The chief had told Yoshimitsu that he was too old to travel to the mansion, and the supervisor had suggested Yoshimitsu go in his place.

It was agreed; Yoshimitsu vowed that he would represent the manji clan with dignity. After the chief left, his supervisor had given Yoshimitsu instructions. He started by degrading his excitement first, saying that he was not chosen by him because he was the strongest, but because he was the most expendable if there was indeed foul play at hand. He was ordered to be well mannered, and to politely turn down Oda's request. Yoshimitsu agreed, leaving with his dignity injured from being deemed "the most expendable."

In his greatest manji garb, colorful and masked, Yoshimitsu put on his most colorful act to date. He was lively, talk in an exaggerated accent, and was polite to a fault. Lord Oda struck him as a firm, and deceptively polite man, but greeted him with great happiness, and treated him with much respect. The two held intellectual conversation through the night, Yoshimitsu never removing his mask, or even hinting at any personal things. This was his biggest assignment yet, and he went through it with pride. There didn't seem to be any foul play around, he had not seen any traps or assassins or even heavily armed guards around. As he expected, Lord Oda Nobunaga had requested the allegiance of the Manji. Yoshimitsu politely declined the offer on behalf of the clan. Lord Oda seemed less than pleased by it, but the two respectfully parted ways after that.  
Yoshimitsu's trek back home was filled with thoughts of accomplishment. He had been on a highly successful mission, something that would make Emiko and Kaori proud of him. Maybe now his clan would accept him now, and make use of his talents. His thoughts were suddenly lost when he saw great billows of smoke in the distance, coming from the direction of his village. Instinctively, he began running to see what the problem was.

He was greeted by horrors. His entire village was burning, with the bodies of his comrades carpeting the village. Lord Nobunaga, who had ridden in front of him, had brought an army. It didn't take him long to figure out that he had slaughtered his clan in retaliation for not swearing allegiance. Yoshimitsu let out a stifled cry at this sight, trying to take it all in. His felt short of breath as memories of his dead family flooded him from the shipwreck. He sprinted down into the village, looking for survivors, swearing furiously as he did. People he had trained with lied stripped of their armor on the ground, killed by blade or arrows. No amount of that training could prepare him for seeing Kaori and Emiko lying among them, their blank expressions burning themselves into Yoshimitsu's already fragile mind. Forgetting all of the patience Emiko had taught him, Yoshimitsu grabbed his weapon, and sought out Nobunaga in a fit of rage.

He had caught up to the army who were just on the outskirts of his village. Letting out a war like shout, he started chopping away at the bewildered soldiers. Seeing one more manji ninja was something they weren't prepared for, but Nobunaga, at the front of the army was not. He had anticipated the powerful ninja coming for revenge, and he had something in store for him. The samurai were no match for Yoshimitsu, as he was too fast, and too hard to hit. His anger had fueled his strength, and he was mowing through these petty soldiers as if they were wheat. As soon as a clearing in the lines was present, Yoshimitsu sprinted towards Nobunaga, who was getting off his horse to calmly meet him in combat. Nobunaga was confidently reaching for a weapon that was wrapped in an ornate cloth. Yoshimitsu was in range by the time he had pulled it out and raised it. The blade was strange, and Yoshimitsu would never forget it.

It was a strange, brownish looking hunk of metal that was vaguely shaped like a katana. It had a somewhat organic quality to it; Yoshimitsu had never seen anything like it. Nobunaga raised it with one hand, and brought it down. Yoshmitsu had a block ready for him, but the sword crashed right through his, and down on his arm slicing clean through. Initially, Yoshimitsu didn't even feel the pain, but he saw it happen. He backed off slightly, a silence filling the area. After a few seconds of staring at his severed arm lying on the ground, the entire side of his body was filled with burning pain. He howled in pain and frustration, feeling the pain sting more seeing the lord's smug smile. Oda's katana had chipped a bit in the slice, some shards of it embedding themselves into Yoshimitsu's severed stump.

But Yoshimitsu was not done. He thought of nothing else but killing this backstabbing arrogant lord. This injury was not only painful but a symbol of dishonor, as his fighting arm had been severed. The Lord looked at his broken sword disappointedly, hoping it would have done much more. Yoshimitsu reached behind him with his remaining arm and pulled out a kodachi, his backup weapon. He zipped at Oda once more, intent to carve out his foul evil heart. Oda, who was not paying attention looked up and was feeling quite cowardly now. But his broken blade moved on its own, guiding his clumsy hands, slashing right back up, connecting with the left side of Yoshimitsu's face. The blade seared right through Yoshimitsu's iron demon mask. It had cut deep and shattered the blade even more. Yoshimitsu felt his left eye leave his head, and after felt a fiery pain numb his entire face. His socket was gored, and a piece of the crumpling blade had been wedged in. The force of Oda's attack sent him airborne, and propelled him violently against the ground head first. Yoshimitsu heard murmurs of soldiers around him, which grew faint. He tried to summon strength to stand but the pain and shock of the blow floored him. As his vision blurred out, he was certain that he was dead.

But he had indeed lived. He suddenly woke up, after hearing a loud voice tell him to rise. He sat up quickly looking for the voice, but no one was around. His face and arm were very sore but he took no notice. He was startled to just be alive. Quickly his thoughts had turned to sorrow, remembering the fate of his loved ones, and his pitiful failure against Oda. He wished that he was dead, so he wouldn't have to suffer his own failure. Somehow this entire tragedy was his fault, and he would not see otherwise.

He quickly shed his armor and garb to check for wounds. His arm was gone, but the stump seemed to be cauterized. In fact, a strange brownish growth had grown over the wound. Yoshimitsu did not take this as odd, as it stopped him from bleeding to death. His vision was severely impaired, now he was without an eye as well. The cut had left a nasty gash over his now empty socket, which he felt. A cold shiver crept through his body as he realized his socket was dried out with the interior lined with the same brown growth as his arm. Whatever this was, it had seemingly saved his life.

It was his unhappy job to bury the manji clan. He spent two full days finding the bodies and blessing them. He could not help but weep uncontrollably burying Emiko and Kaori, his mother and his best friend, whom he never was given the luxury of saying farewell too. This event to him was even worse than the shipwreck and at the same time was all too similar. Once again he wandered the area exposed, insecure, and vulnerable. But this time he had to look at the faces of those he had failed. The ones who gave him his name were gone, and he felt that once again he had turned into "Noname".

After he was done, his sadness turned to anger. This anger was intense, much more intense than usual. Now that everything he loved and cherished was gone, he wanted revenge. He didn't want to just kill Oda Nobunaga, he wanted to massacre his family, and take everything from him. And that's what he was intent on doing. Yoshimitsu gathered a few things from the village before departing for the mountain caves for shelter. Along with some survival provisions, he took an old manji flag, the chiefs sacred wooden alter (tying it around his back), and Emiko's family katana. As the last member of the Manji clan, he would have his revenge.


	3. Chapter 3

Irony: The Detail

Irony: The Detail  
Part 3: Kaibutsu

Cold wind blew across the land, and seeped into the caves at the base of Mount Fuji. Deep within these caves was a small home area, decorated with small trappings, salvaged from the now extinct manji village. Dimly lit with small manmade torches, this dank area was Yoshimitsu's new home for the time being. It was inhospitable and lonely, but it would only help to remind him of what he was trying to achieve. Revenge would not leave his troubled mind.

He began to train furiously since that time had passed. For days at a time he would practice one handed sword techniques with his remaining arm, fumbling awkwardly at the air with the hand he rarely used. Eventually he had gotten better, within a week of work. To build strength he would do one handed pushups among other strength training exercises. He would often loose track of time during his training sessions, and would go for days at a time. He did not eat, but he was constantly nourished. He did not sleep, yet he was never tired. Only once a week did he ever rest his body.

Yoshimitsu's old outfit was stuffed in an old burnt trunk. He trained bare backed, not bothering to work in his traditional garb. His chest and shoulder stump were wrapped in bandages, and a cloth was tied around his head to conceal his eye. Sometimes he could feel the empty space in his eye subtly fill in, but he never dared to inspect it out of disgust. Most of the time he simply ignored it.

There was definitely something wrong with him, but he did not notice. His body got stronger, and his mind fiercer. Slowly he seemed to forget those he was to avenge, and just focused on the revenge itself. The voice that told him to rise before was whispering ideas of hate in his mind as he trained nonstop. The voice murmured rumors of a weapon, capable of giving him all the power he needed.

Initially, Yoshimitsu ignored these voices entirely deeming them as hunger pains, or fatigue getting into his head. But as he grew stronger, the voice stung in his mind. A sword was beckoning to him, never leaving him alone and constantly pestering his mind. It promised him power to complete his vengeance, and assured him that his quest would end only in failure otherwise. It was then that he decided to investigate, only to quell this inane rumor, and put his mind at ease.

Yoshimitsu dawned another manji outfit, and set out across the land to find rumors of this magic sword. He challenged various local warriors to duels (which he quickly won), and ask them for information. Most of the time, he came across nothing. But little by little, and name reoccurred, a legendary blade, known as the Soul Edge. The ultimate weapon, born of the gods, hidden in the west. It would be difficult for Yoshimitsu to travel to the west, his homelands he hardly remembered, but it was made even more difficult when he was told that many warriors sought out the blade.  
Plans began to form instead of training. Yoshimitsu would have to stowaway on a ship, and cross China to find his destination, all while being undercover. When his mind was made up to seek the blade, the voice went from harsh, to seductive and sweet. The voice told him names of warriors, warriors he was sure to meet, warriors that he was to kill to get his prize. Yoshimitsu was apprehensive to outright kill in cold blood, but the voice would remind him of his vengeance.

Another aspect of the journey that worried Yoshimitsu was his current disability. He could handle the sword again but he was at a large disadvantage missing an arm and eye. But just as his fears would arrive, the voice would strike them down, assuring his strength and hatred was deep. He had no room for fear, the voice told him. He would be fighting Spartans, samurai, knights, barbarians and other ninja.

Yoshimitsu created a new outfit to operate in while he was in the west. It was slightly darker than usual utilizing negative colors, lighter in weight (with reduced armor), and more menacing. He had carved a white demonic mask to wear, to draw fear from his enemies. He would have no allies in the west, and would make no room for mercy. As symbol of his pride, he also wore his sashimono on his back. His foes would know who beat them.

He packed little provisions, and left his cave as it was, with his altar and cot still there. He forgot to pray on his way out, but it wasn't unusual. Since he started training, he had frequently forgotten prayer. A boat heading towards China was quickly found, which he had stowed away on. His stealth was masterful, and he was never discovered.

The voice had proven itself a useful instructor to Yoshimitsu during the sailing. In an instant he knew the various languages of the west, and was taught which language to address each warrior in. This kept his mind off of the boat itself. Yoshimitsu had not sailed in years, and being back on the ocean that swallowed his family was an uncomfortable notion. He would quietly meditate to calm himself.

When he reached mainland, he quickly set off, searching for people who had information. He challenged countless warriors across China and even in the west, none of them were the ones he sought. In frustration, he killed many would be warriors not even considering what he had done. The voice he heard was too distracting. He became locally referred to as "a one armed demon". He had the strength of a samurai, but the speed of a ninja according to eyewitness.

Just when he was passing out of China, he finally ran into one of the warriors told about by the voice. A young Korean girl, wielding (what he perceived to be) a naginata-esque weapon. Her sheer spunk alone had slightly agitated Yoshimitsu and even more so the voice in his head, calling her words "self righteous bile". Yoshimitsu kept his words short, speaking in his false voice, only asking questions about the Soul Edge. She had heard the small rumor of Yoshimitsu, and found him. What the two did have in common, was that they were searching for the Soul Edge. The voice alerted Yoshimitsu that she was not worthy to find the weapon.

Quickly, Yoshimitsu engaged the girl in battle, expecting to kill her in one strike. But his one armed lung was blocked, and blocked perfectly. Yoshimitsu was very pleased to have found a warrior to give him a real fight. An intricate dance of slashes and blocks were exchanged by the two. She tried to take advantage of his unarmed side, but Yoshimitsu was fast and deceptive. The voice in his head raged furiously out of control, telling him a plethora of "violent things to do to her". But it was the voices hatred that made Yoshimitsu loose his focus, and take the blunt end of the girl's weapon to the side of his head. The girl was ready to deliver a critical blow to him, when he regained his wits, and delivered the hilt of his sword sharply into her gut. While she was toppled over, he sharply kicked her unguarded head, knocking her down and out.

Yoshimitsu was ready to pierce his steel through her neck, when the voice came back, egging him on to complete his task. The voice even spoke her name, Seong Mi-na. But it was that which halted Yoshimitsu. He knew her name now, and suddenly her face and voice took over his subconscious, etching them into his memory. Killing someone whose name he knew seemed very wrong. He was a ninja, but he was rarely forced to kill, except those lives he recently took. He didn't seem to remember THOSE. The voice in his head tried to beckon him, but it faded away suddenly. A small ripple of mercy splashed through him, and he sheathed his sword. He would not kill this girl. He would find his answers without her.

He left her, continuing his journey. He had the names of the other warriors, he would seek them out instead. At this point, he nervously acknowledged that there could be an outside force involved in his mind. He had not initially noticed this voice, but during that fight he felt that it more than ever, clearly hearing its distinct voice. The voice was one he had never heard before. But it would come back from time to time, and seduce him into a false sense of inner peace once again. His encounter with the Korean would not stop his slaughter of lesser warriors.

He rarely needed to eat or sleep while he traveled, so he could gain great distance over short time. He felt an irritating sting of some kind of infectious activity occurring on the stump of his missing arm, and within the socket of his missing eye. He would not shed his disguise regularly though, so he never checked. Any wounds he received in battle would not stay visible on his body long anyway. His strange new physical prowess was something else he was beginning to realize.

His travels took him into the west, looking for the sword. He fought more small time fighters, but would occasionally run into targets the voice was telling him about. At one point he was challenged by an arrogant Samurai, who was named Mitsurugi. The battle was quicker than before, and it actually resulted in Yoshimitsu loosing. Mitsurugi had impaled Yoshimitsu all the way through his chest, and left him for dead. Yoshimitsu could not fight the swordsman with one arm. The talented samurai just had a bigger range of motion. He survived the wound however; it fully healed within a day, something that upset Yoshimitsu. He was happy to be alive, but worried that such a fatal blow could not disarm him even for a few days. Yoshimitsu would remember the arrogance of the Samurai Mitsurugi in any case.

After more traveling, he began to follow a path of massacres. Whole armies and even worse, villages lay in ruins, survivors claiming one man had done it, wielding the "Sword of Salvation". In a normal situation, he would have stayed behind to help survivors. Seeing dead armies was one thing, but ravaged villages were a catastrophe. Farmers protecting their land lay beheaded, their young sons next to them, split in two. Wives, daughters, workers, guards all shared the same fate. Yoshimitsu followed these war zones, the voice distracting him from all the carnage, keeping him from praying for the lost souls, or helping the survivors like he usually would. All of his apathy was working against him. Slowly, Yoshimitsu was loosing his humanity and his identity he wanted to keep so greatly. He slowly forgot all about Kaori and his lost sister, and only focused on the Soul Edge. He had dropped to a new level of existence, only knowing obsession, pride, and anger.

His third major encounter was different. This warrior, had found HIM instead, a kunoichi, by the name of Taki. She was a more traditional ninja, something the manji clan had looked down upon. They resorted to cheap illusion trickery and stealth based clothing to do the job. The woman vigorously attacked him not wasting any time and aiming at vital points right away. Yoshimitsu's katana successfully blocked them all, and after the final one had stopped, he swiftly kicked his leg into the side of her knee, sweeping her. Instead of delivering a killing blow to her back, he backed off. He was very impressed by her performance. Her quick, 'get-the-job-done' logical way of fighting reminded him slightly of Kaori, who had since left his mind. She cursed and grunted getting to her feet once more, shooting Yoshimitsu a scornful glare. The voice, even louder than before, had commanded him to clear his mind and focus.

She was also quick to insults during their fight, constantly calling him a 'demon'. Yoshimitsu was under the impression that she was referring to his mask. As well versed as Taki was at ninjutsu, Yoshimitsu's improvisational skill was greater. She was sloppy, and as the battles progressed longer, she ran out of techniques to surprise him with. Yoshimitsu had bested her, knocking the weapons out of her hand, and grounding her. He kept a firm foot on her stomach, to keep her from moving. He was about to kill her too, something the voice was delighting in perhaps too much. It was then that Taki referred to him as a demon once again, with much disgust in her voice.

Yoshimitsu had laughed coyly at that, retorting with the words:

"You really think that I am a demon? I' am no demon, I am Yoshimitsu! Had enough?!"

These words confused her. She explained to him why she had sought him out, before he could impale her. She had sensed the demonic aura of the Azure Knight, the man wielding the soul edge, and slaughtering the innocent. Conveniently, Yoshimitsu recalled all of the carnage he had seen of the villages (a ploy used by the voice to only make him angrier). Yoshimitsu moved his foot up to her chest, violently pushing down, his anger fueled by insult. He jammed his blade down, right next to her head, missing by less than a centimeter.

"You dare imply that I am the same as the murderous barbarian ravaging those people?! There is no worse insult, you lowly assassin whore!" He hollered at her, his voice changing drastically from his eccentric calm demeanor, to a deeper voiced growl. He almost sounded like a different person entirely (a talent that the manji could achieve through training).

"Your aura is deformed, warrior!" She said through stifled grunts. "I sense the taint of the blade itself in your body, exerting force on your mind!"

Then, she looked up at him, accidentally catching his good eye through the unforgiving mask. The look in her eyes was the look of sincerity. And the evidence he had been trying to ignore of his indoctrination built up. He released his foot from her, and she stood. She was calm, realizing that she had reached his mind. Yoshimitsu sheathed his blade after that, fearing that any more fighting could worsen his condition.

He was amazed that this lowly ninja could sense auras. He knew that Emiko could, but he had never learned how. Taki talked him out of his frenzy, erasing the voice entirely from his head, her words and chants therapeutic and purifying. This time the deranged voice would not come back. Taki had urged him to seek further purification after she had calmed his mind. His aura was almost exactly like the Azure Knights she observed, something that greatly troubled Yoshimitsu. He had vowed to her that he would correct his problems, and she believed his sincerity. Taki needed to move on, but she was intrigued, and stayed to converse for a few minutes. She had never met a manji before as they were very secretive. She knew he was a manji by the way he dressed and spoke. This was the first time she had fought a manji ninja, so she had no way to read his techniques initially. He had mentioned how he was impressed by her techniques, them being a lot less flash than what he was taught. She saw the importance of being able to fool the enemy into trying to guess attacks, but told him that she was no good at that kind of thing. Through their talking, he had learned what she was journeying for, and wished her luck. Eventually, she kept moving on. She was trying to reach the sword too, but not for the same reasons.

Yoshimitsu found himself a sanctuary, to meditate. It was a secluded babbling brook, with a small waterfall nearby, a perfect natural place. For the first time in a month, he had removed his mask and armor. Some small patches of facial hair were growing on his face, and his hair had grown slightly longer. He had not removed his bandages yet though. It was there that he began to meditate on the rocks near the brook. It was the deepest meditation he had in his life. Suddenly, all the things he forgot came back. Kaori returned to his memories, as did the memories of his family, repressed childhood memories of the ship. He had remembered his battle with Oda, and why he was all the way in the west at all. He recalled that his sister was still lost in Japan, and he never went to see her. But most of all, he remembered the blade that had disarmed him. He had felt the hatred radiating off of it when he saw it, hatred similar to the one he had used as a weapon. He realized that the blade must have been Soul Edge, or part of it. He suddenly could clearly see all the dead left behind from the Soul Edge. The massacred villages he passed, terrible destruction rained down by the Soul Edge. He even remembered the small amount of slaying he did himself to find the Soul Edge. The voice in his head was the voice of the sword, trying to complete itself. Yoshimitsu had become a pawn of darkness, and he was too weak minded to see it, until now.

It was amazing to him that he could simply forget his purpose. The swords power of control was definitely dangerous. He considered Lord Oda once again. Could he be just another pawn of the sword, and his quest for power was the Soul Edge itself trying to dominate? That would mean that his beloved village was just another massacre, no different than the ones he had passed. The images he previously didn't appear to notice flooded him. He had stepped over bodies, ignored wounded survivors; something that he felt was unforgivable. What was worse, he had killed warriors in cold blood. The first time he had killed in cold blood, and he had done it soullessly. It disgusted him. The very thought of acting in such a dishonorable way left a sour taste in his mouth. He had been raised better than that.

He realized how easy it was for a sword of such power to seduce powerful warriors into its legion. Already this Azure Knight was collecting kills for it, spreading its terror all around. This sword could take over the hopes and dreams of all, ruling a greater part of civilization with an iron fist. Yoshimitsu saw its evil taint in his meditation, and decided that such a weapon should be destroyed. They could not rely on gods or miracles to rid the world of this evil, it would have to be humans themselves. Hours passed, and he broke out of his meditation. After that, he had fallen asleep. He had not slept in over three weeks.

His dreams were not his own that night. He saw memories, but memories of another. He saw things play out from the point of view of the Azure Knight himself. More deaths, and various fights of faces he recognized, but didn't know. A blonde Grecian woman kept reoccurring in the Azure Knights head. Whoever this poor soul was, the sword had him too, and would not let him go. From all the death he saw, Yoshimitsu knew from that point on that killing would not be his way. He swore off the murder of others forever during that dream. A pain in his head would awake him.

He woke on the ground, rubbing his head. His head was aching monstrously, coming from his eye. He sat up, feeling weighted down on one side. He looked over, and saw another appendage splitting from his body. It was a brown, fleshy arm, disfigured and unnaturally large, with clawed hands. The voice had been silenced, but the Soul Edge would not stop in tying to gain another obedient disciple. Yoshimitsu let out a terrified shout, and instantly reached for his sword, as his own new arm wailed and slithered out of control.

Using the blade, he sliced the arm off while grunting through the pain. But being removed from his body would not stop it. It slithered and crawled towards its previous owner in retaliation. Yoshimitsu wildly slashed and hacked it, desperate to kill it. Eventually, the gnarled arm ceased to be. He collapsed back on his rear, the sheer disturbing incident enough to make him loose feeling in his legs. Sweat poured down his face, as his eye stared at the bloody mess. That was growing out of his body, but something about it was so foreign and foul. He quickly shed the bandages around his eye just to be sure, for he could not deny the same stinging sensation from his arm existed around his face.. When he pulled them away, and vision on the blind half of his face was restored. Quickly finding water to see his reflection, a glowing eye had grown in the empty scratched up socket. It was yellow and demonic, matching the large eye on the side of the Soul Edge. But it was not doing anything out of control. In fact it acted just like his regular eye, albeit with a yellowish tint to its color. Slightly glad to have his vision restored (and fearing he would further injure himself if he cut it out), he did not remove it.  
But he knew what was going on with his body. There were shards in his body, he remembered. Now they were permanently wedged in. Yoshimitsu's meditating opened his eyes to many things, such as the Soul Edge's indoctrinatory control over certain hosts. Sensing that he had found out and loosing its voice in the process, the Soul Edge in his body made a drastic move, and attempted to physically overtake his body. The problem was, the shards were too small to take over entirely. It could only control one large arm.

He wrapped up his stump again, trying not to panic. It would grow back in time, and he needed to find a way to stop it. All he could think to do was return home, and attempt to find a holy man to quell the virus, or remove the shards at risk. At the same time, he would tie up loose ends if he could. He quickly suited up in his attire again, and quickly started heading back east, as fast as he could.

He was fueled by fear this time, instead of hate. Already he could feel the stinging growth on his arm. He stopped for nothing, not food nor sleep. In this time, he had noticed some abilities of his new eye that would come in handy. Anyone he would momentarily pass, he could see their auras with the Soul Edge's eye. Also, at times the vision of that particular eye would switch its perspective. Sometimes the eye would see what the Azure Knight's sword was seeing. When Yoshimitsu would learn to control this, it would make following the swords heinous activities much easier. But at the same time, unknown to Yoshimitsu, the sword knew that he could watch, and yet it could do nothing about it. But the sword could do the same thing back to him. It could see what he was seeing at times too.

Eventually Yoshimitsu returned to Japan. His cave was just how he left it, with his altar and cot still there. He quickly disrobed from his outfit to check the growth. His eye had remained the same, thankfully. But his arm was already trying to regroup itself. It was a mere fleshy atrophy trying to wiggle itself into growing faster. Yoshimitsu had very little time before it got out of hand again, and he began to think of various spiritual advisors to help him. He could think of none in his panic, and began praying in front of his wooden altar. He received no epiphanies, or spiritual advice. In frustration, he hit the altar cursing its uselessness, while brushing the growing brown flesh on it. It made the flesh shrink, and retract to a single point. It was blessed with positive energy, making the soul edges growth retracts into hiding. This gave Yoshimitsu an idea. He could halt the growing, and not compromise his situation at the same time.

Slowly his eccentricities began to arise again. A fantastic, foolish plan formed in his head. He could still fight with two arms, and stop the soul edge form controlling his arm. He carved bits and pieces of that alter off, and began to construct a sophisticated device from it. It would appear the Soul Edge's affect on his brain gave him some uncannily clever intellect. He had constructed a prosthetic wooden arm out of the altars wood. Perhaps the blessed altar would have some use.

He attached the detailed wood to his arm, and it fit perfectly. It wasn't much, but he could feel its purity keeping the soul edge growth at bay, but not destroying it. But that was not the only good thing to come out of his experimental replacement. Before he could realize his eye noticed the wood, and began to glow. A few seconds later, the arm itself glowed brightly, and then diminished back to normal as if nothing had happened. Yoshimitsu blinked confusedly at this occurrence, as it only lasted for three seconds and ended anticlimactically. To his amazement, the arm began to move. He could control this wooden arm like his old arm, all the finger movements and motion retained. He could now fight with two hands again.

Out of the tragedies and journeys he experienced, he became a stronger warrior, channeling the strength of the Soul Edge to become his own. Slowly, Yoshimitsu forgot his revenge plot against Oda Nobunaga. It would make him no better than the Azure Knight to kill him. In any case, the real culprit behind his clan's massacre was the Soul Edge. He made it his mission to see to it that it would eventually be destroyed, even if it required him to secretly guide others to its destruction.

From that day on, he never again forgot his family, and their senseless destruction. He never forgot the faces of those he slew, and the faces of those he wished he could have helped. He would never forget the face of the first worthy warriors he faced. He would face Mitsurugi again in the future, in an attempt to quell his arrogance. He would become good friends with Taki, the woman who saved him from the Soul Edge. He would become the target of hatred from a bizarre mute named Voldo, who would attempt to steal his sword. The man was utterly creepy, and even dressed in a more ridiculous fashion than Yoshimitsu. But he never planned to reveal his face to them, remembering the shame he felt as a displaced man with no real home.

He also changed in another, more noticeable way. He began wearing bright colors again, with ridiculous outfits to accompany his blissful and delightful manic-ness that he put on in the West. These strange looks were perfect to distract the unaware warriors of his meddling in things. He became positive and eccentric again, perhaps to hide his true fears. He never again killed a warrior either. He was skilled enough to merely disarm his opponents, but never kill them. He faced many of the important fighters multiple times. He was tricky, and never severely harmed them. A few of them debated whether Yoshimitsu was real or merely a dream. He would always offer words of wisdom to the warriors who would listen to him. He would eventually find his long lost sister "Setsuka" on the battlefield, pursuing none other than the arrogant samurai Mitsurugi in her own scheme of revenge, weaved by the Soul Edge. It seemed that many of these warriors' fates were intertwined by destiny, including his own.

In the time to come, Yoshimitsu would shape the important events of the battles. He secretly worked undercover, using the Soul Edge's own eye against it, and the Soul Edge had not acknowledged him as a threat yet. Every time he would meet a warrior, he would throw them awry with clever words, and direct them towards the destruction of the Soul Edge. He continuously found himself leading a group of Chinese warriors in the right direction after discovering one of them wielding the Soul Caliber, the Soul Edge's opposite. He would put on his 'act' for them as well, occasionally speaking serious to them to appeal to their trust. The only other time he spoke normal was in the presence of Taki.

But eventually the Soul Edge would catch onto Yoshimitsu's secret meddling. This was answered by his new servant Tira, who acted obediently, but would serve as a stepping stone for the Soul Edge to gain another more powerful ally. The sword had worked her in Yoshimitsu's direction, alerting her of the secrets he held. It intended for Yoshimitsu to eventually kill her, making his mind weak to the indoctrination of the Soul Edge, and add him to its list of powerful slaves. Ironically, it was Taki who saved Yoshimitsu's mind a second time.

Even now, his story is not completely finished. There was still more to do, the Soul Edge was only gaining power it seemed. Yoshimitsu would not rest until all traces of the blade were gone. But as the fights went by, his real self was getting revealed little at a time. The Nightmare knew, the girl Tira knew, and now Taki new. Soon he would not have a shadow to hide behind.


	4. Epilogue

Irony: The Epilogue

Irony: The Epilogue

Epilogue: Oni

In the modern day many years later, the way of fighting had hardly changed. Only instead of fighting for truth, justice and the extinguishing of evil, warriors willingly fought for selfishness, greed, and vengeance. The King of the Iron Fist tournament was only a cover for men and women who wanted money, or to hurt others. Soul Edge and Soul Calibur disappeared, and the warriors who had fought and killed each other for it were long dead while their descendants now fought for money. A far cry of the ideal world Yoshimitsu fought so hard to get.

There was no warrior more depressed and cynical about the fight than Yoshimitsu. Now he was nothing more than a benevolent crime lord, something he resented being called. On the plus side, he had reestablished the manji way of fighting, and had summed up a great amount of followers. He participated in the King of Iron Fist to try and help the world, and monitor the darkness that had arisen. It seemed that Yoshimitsu was doomed to be "caretaker" for all of eternity. Hundreds of years later, the very same Yoshimitsu was still alive.

In the past, Yoshimitsu had worked behind the scenes, plotting against Soul Edge and being controlled by it at the same time. He had made many friends, and grown to secretly love another ninja. These were indeed the golden years of his time. As the years passed, some of his friends grew old and died, while others were fortunate enough to die in battle. But Yoshimitsu remained exactly the same. He never aged, and any wound he received was healed no matter how terrible it was. It did not take him long to realize that the evil power he had tamed came with a price: Immortality.  
He tried to cope with this terrible blessing, but as soon as Taki fell in battle before his eyes, he wanted nothing more but to stop fighting. He found solace from the aged Zasalamel, who was previously immortal. But not even the wise old warrior could help Yoshimitsu. The shards and power of the Soul Edge would not release Yoshimitsu from his youth or invulnerability. Zasalamel could only advise Yoshimitsu to keep an eye on the world, and do his part to keep evil from it. Perhaps then the gods would show mercy on his tainted soul.

As everyone died around him he grew depressed. History changed before his eyes and he remained the same. Yoshimitsu appeared mysteriously throughout history assuming the same identity, keeping his band of warriors in action. He worked as an assassin in various wars, fighting for the side he decided was the most righteous. During World War 2, he saw the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, destruction on par with the terrible might of Soul Edge. It was at that time Yoshimitsu put himself on hiatus, and stopped fighting altogether for 60 years.

During that time, he tried to blend in with society. He even stood out unmasked due to his eye, a reminder of the cursed blade that still had him. He took on the name "Lucius" and wore an eye patch to hide his abnormal eye. Eventually in the ending years of his peace, he settled in the Philippines and even took a wife, a girl named Matia. It was hard to hide his curse from her however as he never aged, and looked the same as he did when he was only 20 years old. But he enjoyed peace with Matia, and eventually forgot his "sacred duty" for a while.

Peace was shattered soon after Matia became pregnant. At first, the two of them were very happy to be with child, and Yoshimitsu was elated to become a father. After Taki had fallen he had sworn to never love another, but this changed things now he was to be a father. On the day of the child birth, tragedy and horror invaded his life again. The child was born a demon, a creature of the Soul Edge. The horrendous birth had killed Matia, and in turn Yoshimitsu was forced to slay his offspring. That signaled the end of his peaceful life. The traumatizing event made him dawn his manji garb again, and fight evil.

Eventually the King of the Iron Fist tournament came and dominated the world. Now he was put up against tougher opponents, opponents who did not use weapons like he did. Slaying them with his blade would only make the demon within him more powerful, so he created an alternative. By focusing his power, he enveloped the blade in a green force field, making it impossible to actually cut or stab another. He could call off the field at any time however…

His outward look changed for these tournaments. This was not like old times, where fighting was anywhere with anything goes. These battles had rules, and inexperienced warriors. No longer dressing in colorful outfits, he dawned menacing proto-armors and iron masks. Afterall, Yoshimitsu had become dark and cynical over the many years he was forced to live. He was draped in secrecy, even more than before. Very few knew his actual face, with the exception of a few.

One of the few who knew him at a more personal level was Kunimitsu, who had fallen for the experienced warrior. Yoshimitsu had accepted her to his band due to her talents, but also due to the fact that she resembled Taki greatly (albeit, a bit more naïve and immature). She had the same talents and fought very similar, even worked in similar clothes. The two worked closely together, and eventually became lovers. But even that was doomed to fail.

After spending so much time among Yoshimitsu, she also came in contact with his sword. The hold of Soul Edge was present in that sword, and took hold of her unsuspecting mind. She eventually became obsessed with the weapon, even after Yoshimitsu warned her she was "better off not knowing about it." The evil greed consumed her, and she plotted to steal the weapon from her master and lover. The power it contained had claimed her mind, just like so many of the years long passed.  
When she turned on him it broke his heart in two, the fourth time it had happened in his everlasting life. The two fought in the second tournament (a violent and vicious fight), but Yoshimitsu easily achieved victory over her. He was ready to kill the woman, but couldn't bring his hands to land the blow. She reminded him too much of his old friend. Instead he removed her hand and mask (a symbol of the manji that they have been cast out) and left the despairing kunoichi tied to a tree, her words of rage and hate echoing into the sky.

Even in this present day, the Soul Edge's taint existed. First it had infected Kazuya Mishima, then created the Ogre. It had cursed Jun Kazama and her son Jin Kazama, and had revived the old Jinpachi Mishima from the grave. Yoshimitsu would never be granted peace from this curse, as it kept coming back as long as warriors fought.

The hatred Yoshimitsu felt for himself and the world made his condition worse. He dressed in increasingly darker clothing, the eye and arm of his body growing stronger. He was kept sane by a few comrades he had met in the tournament. The first was Dr. Boskonovitch who saved his life. He had constructed a new arm for him (using fragments of his old holy mantle) and kept him from loosing his mind. The next was a girl he rescued from danger named Ling Xioayu, an impressionable young warrior who seemed to be the incarnate of Chai Xianghua (atleast in his eyes.)

A great deal of the warriors in this ongoing tournament seemed to be incarnates of people he knew previously. He had noticed Kunimitsu resembled Taki, and how Xioayu resembled Xianghua. He had always though that Jin Kazama was rather like the quiet warrior Killik, and how Anna and Nina Williams were like Ivy Valentine and Cassandra Alexandra respectively. Maybe THEY were doomed to fight onward too, like he was. The evil curse wouldn't loosen its hold on anyone, unless it was destroyed properly.  
Yoshimitsu battled onward, his quest for purification and death not seeming any closer. Perhaps his tainted body was poorly looked upon by the gods. He seemed to think it was their sick joke that he should suffer, after all the things he has done to protect everyone. In any case, Yoshimitsu fought on like the demon he thought he was. At this rate, he was doomed to walk in the shadow of loneliness and dispair for all of time.


End file.
